Dueling Dungeons (Rogue Dungeon 5) - Chapter Five

Cursed Priest

It was an odd sensation looting heroes’ corpses in someone else’s dungeon—by rights, the spoils should’ve gone to the Dungeon Lord over this place—but Roark pitched in and helped the Poser Owners. It was quick work; on the first death within a dungeon, heroes only dropped one item and a percentage of their overall gold. The second death was the profitable one—at least from a Dungeon Lord’s standpoint—but Roark helped them finish the job anyway, if only to speed things along. He wasn’t truly after loot, after all, he was here for experience and levels. Perhaps a new transmutation core or two as an added bonus.

With that task completed, the team pushed farther into the sprawling tomb. The heroes from Bad_Karma’s guild had referred to the rest of the pyramid as a maze, and it certainly was at that. The corridors sheared off at sharp angles, spit them back out at the beginning, and stopped dead without warning.

Roark recognized several traps he’d used in the Cruel Citadel to slowly wear down heroes and steered the Poser Owners away from them, but there were also several strange new things he hadn’t had access to in his Dungeon Lord’s Grimoire.

Puzzle doors requiring stylized pictograms to be ordered correctly, talking statues that asked riddles in exchange for showering the answerer with treasure or deadly clouds of poison. Hatches that sprung open from overhead, dumping scores of the Black Fire Scorplings or highly venomous Spitting Onyx Cobras down on them. He had to admire the construction, even as he instructed their shadow-cloaked rogue and Blackguard Knave in finding and disabling these new types of deceptions.

True to the promises he’d found on the WikiLore, the mobs in the starting floors of the Tomb of Takumen-Ra spawned at a much higher level than those in the Cruel Citadel. Hordes of Flesh-Eating Scarabs swarmed them when sarcophagi were opened, and none of the bloody bugs were below a Level 15. Mac delighted in crunching them up like snacks, but they wreaked havoc on the Poser Owners, causing as much damage to the heroes by the responsive friendly fire as they did from their Rot-poisoned bites.

“Area spells that won’t harm your allies only!” Roark barked as he unleased Infernal Torment on the creatures. “And bloody hells, stop swinging that axe in such small spaces!”

A few more of the Poser Owners caught on every time. They weren’t a well-disciplined force, but once they saw that Roark’s advice was sound, they began to listen and follow his lead. And it helped that PwnrBwner, a hero they trusted, was on his side.

“Do what he says, dickbrain!” the Ranger-Cleric yelled at the rog who’d nearly decapitated two other heroes with his cumbersome battle-axe. “You’re legit killing us with that Devastating Sweep!”

“Sorry!” the rog croaked, the chastised voice at odds with his huge frame.

As they worked their way deeper into the winding, sand-strewn halls of the Tomb of Takumen-Ra, the dungeon continued to throw stronger and stronger foes at them. Solitary feline Sacred Bastets the size of horses, packs of snapping [Soul Devourers] that looked like a cross between a crocodile and a muscular dog, and increasingly higher Evolutions of [Plague Mummy] in hanging linen wrappings. As they fought their way on, Roark collected the Transmutation Cores and the occasional new poison or weapon with a new Enchantment on it from the creatures he had killed, but left the remainder of the loot and gold to PwnrBwner’s guild, as promised.

Under Roark’s direction, the thirteen members of their party began to coalesce into a fighting force to be reckoned with. The tanks rushed forward at the first sign of aggression, drawing in damage, while the casters threw spells and the ranged attackers loosed volleys of arrows. Ick’s Rejuvenating Moonbeams kept them fortified, and the Blood Witch’s Blood Cleanse washed away the Tomb Rot and other diseases the mobs of the Onyx Sands were so keen on infecting them with.

A second party of heroes—the SmarmyFaces, according to GothicTerror—ambushed Roark and the Poser Owners just outside the final puzzle door to the Dungeon Lord’s Throne Room. By then, however, they were working like a well-oiled machine.

With his high Health and Magicka regeneration and his Dungeon Lord abilities, Roark was uniquely suited to lead from either the front lines or stay back, throwing spells with the casters. Now, however, as they faced off with another of the rival heroes’ guilds, he waded into the thick of the fray with the first wave of tanks. He didn’t have to check his Experience to know he was just under eight thousand points from reaching Level 70. Practically within in spitting distance. With each new hero he struck down, Roark adjusted the rolling total in his head.

Out of nowhere a sizzling white cloud of fire and sparks engulfed Roark, agony roaring along his nerve endings. Divine energy burned through his exposed skin and sank into his armor. Every breath scorched his lungs and made it impossible to think.

[Nimbus of Holy Radiance has been affixed to you! Suffer 12 points Divine damage/sec for 2n seconds, where n is the level of the caster. 30% chance to trigger Divine Judgment every time you kill an ally of the caster while affixed with Nimbus of Holy Radiance.]

The red in his filigreed Health vial took a dip, the greatest blow it had suffered since entering the Tomb. This was precisely why it was so crucial he find a way to merge with Aczol’s core—true, he would always have an inherent weakness to the Divine, but not nearly so crippling as it was now. Roark growled through gritted teeth, casting Infernal Invigoration, and searched the chaos for the SmarmyFaces’ hidden Cleric.

Multicolored bursts of light filled the air as the magick users battled it out from a distance, though Roark could hardly see them through the sparking haze of Holy Radiance. Suddenly, twin pains lanced through his back.

[x2 Stealth Multiplier]

A hooded Executioner Rogue ripped his daggers out of Roark’s kidneys and tried to slip away unnoticed. Roark spun and slashed the backstabbing Rogue open from shoulder to hip with his rapier—a perfectly executed Squalembrato—following with the kaiken dagger in his off hand. It was a deadly combo he’d learned from Griff, and it worked with lethal efficiency. The Rogue dropped, dead before he hit the ground.

And so did Roark’s Health vial.

[You have been struck by Divine Judgment! Divine Judgment is a Retribution Spell and only triggers when you kill an ally of the caster while under Nimbus of Holy Radiance.]

He had to find that damned Cleric and kill it before it killed him. He was too close to die now and be sent back to level 36.

A Sun-Blasted Templar in lustrous bronze plate mail rushed Roark, swinging a Spiked Maul massive enough to rival Kaz’s Legendary Meat Tenderizer.

“Thug life!” she bellowed.

Roark sidestepped the Templar’s lumbering charge and planted his kaiken dagger in the chink between the bottom of her helmet and the top of her backplate, driving the weapon home to the hilt. Luckily for Roark’s Health vial, the shot didn’t kill the Templar outright. It did, however, send her tumbling to the floor where a stampede of the Blood Witch’s [Summoned Lesser Blood Shrikes] trampled her as they passed.

Finally, the cloud of Holy Radiance dissipated. Roark blinked his eyes, trying to adjust to the dimmer lighting, and ran the Templar through with his rapier, stoccata di quarta. The last of her red bar flashed out its critical warning, then emptied.

Roark spun around, searching for that bloody Cleric before they could hit him with another Divine spell or renew the blasted Holy Radiance aura.

There. As the Summon Shrikes bowled through the SmarmyFaces’s quickly flagging frontline, they revealed a lanky Arcane Cleric in shimmering white robes. As Roark watched, the Cleric summoned a shining white Spellbook.

Before the Cleric could aim another spell at him, Roark pulled a Cursed Head from his Inventory and tore out the nose ring, lobbing it at the menace. The Cursed Head slammed into the Cleric’s left side and detonated in a flash of Necrotic Rot.

The Undead spell very nearly did the trick. The Cleric’s Health vial dropped to critical, flashing an angry red warning. The lanky man opened his mouth and began a healing prayer.

But he never got past the first word. A shimmering distortion dropped off the ceiling, crushing the Cleric under nearly a ton of Adolescent Turtle Dragon. Mac trundled to his feet and began attacking the SmarmyFaces from inside their own lines with bursts of wild Elemental Fury.

Within minutes, the last of the rival guild was dead, and the Poser Owners were looting their bodies. More Ultimate Healing and Magicka Potions were consumed, and finally, they turned to unlock the puzzle door.

“Cover us,” PwnrBwner ordered as he stepped up beside Roark.

While he read the hieroglyphics from the ceiling, Roark turned the corresponding tumblers on the door. Ick’s throat-singing filled the corridor as he fortified their party once more, and the Blood Witch cast her most powerful ability, Mass Blood Ward, to protect them from whatever diseases the throne room might hold.

The last tumbler snapped into place beneath Roark’s fingers, then they all spun to display a series of shepherd’s crooks. With a grating, rocky scrape, the stone door sank into the floor of the tomb.

The throne room opened to them, revealing a pitched battle already well underway inside a massive and ornate Burial Chamber.

“That’ll be the Ganksters,” GothicTerror said, reloading her Wraithpiercer with a ratcheting series of clicks.

A band of heroes fought a throng of [Infectious Plague Mummies] and [Rabid Jackals] marshalled by the desiccated remains of a creature easily of a size with to Roark, a rotting jackal’s head perched on his wide shoulders.

[Takumen-Ra, Cursed Priest of Anukten]

The Level 63 Cursed Priest wore the fluttering remains of robes eaten away by ages in the tomb and brandished an enormous gold crook and staff, both radiating noxious green Undead energy. A strange stylized eye and brow glowed with brilliant emerald light in the center of the Dungeon Lord’s chest.

As the Ganksters killed off Mummies and Jackals, the Cursed Priest waved his crook and staff, conjuring more ranks of the Undead creatures, raising them from the very sands of the chamber.

“Looks like they started the boss fight without us,” the Blackguard Knave said, peering around Roark’s leathery wing.

“Good.” PwrnBwner pulled out a Light-Enchanted Peerless Mace and hefted it onto his shoulder. “Let’s go fuck their shit up.”

“Not just yet.” Roark pulled out his Initiate’s Spellbook. In quick, precise script he inscribed Quagmire of Sucking Mud in a Level 8 Spell Slot and a Group Sucking Mud Immunity in a Level 9. “Have you used your Ranger special ability yet today?” he asked PwnrBwner.

The Ranger Cleric eyed him. “Nope. Why?”

“Cover the ground beneath their feet with as much Pitch as you can, but try to keep it in an isolated area.” With a flash the spell inscriptions took. Quickly, Roark cast the Immunity on the Poser Owners. “I’ll set up a series of mud traps throughout the room to mire the ones who make it out of your Pitch.” He glanced at the Poser Owners. “Wait to attack until the mud traps are set, then encircle both groups and herd them to the center. Focus your attacks mainly on the Cursed Priest. Without him, the Jackals and Mummies will stop spawning. We’ll crush the lot of them like a gnat in a fist.”

Roark led the way into the chamber, the Blood Witch’s garnet Ward deflecting a Plague Spray spat by a stray Mummy, then broke right and cast the Sucking Mud spell. PwnrBwner shot to the opposite side of the room, spraying the floor beneath the skirmish with sticky black Pitch.

Confused and infuriated shouts went up among the Ganksters, and the Mummies and Jackals roared in angry defiance. Here and there, desiccated feet and paws snapped off as the Undead creatures attempted to rip themselves free of the Pitch and Sucking Mud.

“Now!” GothicTerror shouted.

The Poser Owners flooded into the burial chamber, fanning out and avoiding PwnrBwner’s circle of Pitch. Those with bows shot exploding Rays of Sun into the Undead mobs. Roark would’ve liked to go after the rival heroes for the extra Experience, but instead he switched over to his Bow of the Fleet-Fingered Hunter and began firing trios of Rays at the Cursed Priest.

Takumen-Ra roared in fury, unleashing a clicking cloud of [Pestilent Locusts].

Thinking quickly, Roark countered the disease-spreading vermin by launching into the cast for Discordant Inversion and Deflection. He hadn’t had any of the Webs pre-inscribed when he came into the Onyx Sands—the spell required him to specify the targeted Magick during the cast—but the locusts were moving slowly enough as a group that he could afford the small delay. Roark threw himself through the martial stances, weaving the Discordant Inversion web, then flung the completed spell at the Locusts.

In a flash of light, the sickly insects turned to brilliantly white Lantern Bugs. They banked in the air and flew back at Takumen-Ra. The Cursed Priest was entirely unprepared for his spell to be turned to Light Magick and used against him, and could only bat uselessly as they shot at him. Everywhere the Lantern Bugs hit, holes bored into the Cursed Priest’s rotting flesh, surrounded by tiny tongues of white fire.

While Takumen-Ra summoned another herd of Rabid Jackals to retaliate, Roark darted in and attacked, slicing into the Cursed Priest with his Light-Enchanted Slender Rapier. The Poser Owner’s shadow-cloaked rogue appeared for a moment behind Takumen-Ra, hamstringing the enormous priest, then disappeared again.

Roark pressed his advantage, carving away at the priest’s dwindling red bar. A series of Light Bolts streaked across the room, taking Takumen-Ra in the face and chest. When Roark glanced up to see where they’d come from, GothicTerror was reloading her Wraithpiercer and swinging it toward a rampaging Jackal. Nearby, PwnrBwner was directing his Poser Owners to use their strongest Light spells on the Undead. Thankfully, he wasn’t allowing them to attack the rival guild yet. So far, none of the Ganksters seemed to have realized the Poser Owners were there to take the dungeon raid they had worked so hard for, and Roark wanted to keep it that way until the opportune moment.

Takumen-Ra tried to hook Roark’s rapier, using his crook and rod. Roark allowed the Cursed Priest to trap his rapier, then threw his weight into a lunge. It was a contratempo he’d been considering ever since Griff admonished him to add the dagger to his off hand during battles, but this was his first attempt to use the counterattack on the fly. As Takumen twisted the crook and snatched Roark’s rapier away, Roark planted his Kaiken Dagger in the strange eye symbol at the center of the Cursed Priest’s chest.

Takumen-Ra howled in pain and sickly emerald light shot from the empty eye holes in his rotting jackal’s skull. With a twist, Roark jerked the dagger free and sprung out of the way. The Cursed Priest exploded in a shower of bone shards.

There was probably a healthy Transmutation Core somewhere in those remains, but Roark forced himself to remain on-task. He would loot the priest later. For now, he had heroes to kill and Experience to siphon. Heroes whose Health bars had been severely depleted by a protracted fight with the Dungeon Lord’s minions.

With a nod to PwnrBwner, Roark turned on the circle of Ganksters finishing off the Undead creatures Takumen-Ra had summoned.

“All right, Ganksters!” PwnrBwner shouted. “It’s pwnin’ time!”

As the Poser Owners began attacking the rival guild, one of the Ganksters screamed, “These dicks are kill-stealing the whole fucking dungeon!”

“Damn right we are, tell your friends!” PwnrBwner crowed, nearly taking the Gankster’s head off with a blow from his crystal mace. “Step right up and git got, bitches!”

Roark ignored the Ranger-Cleric’s pathological need to be a bastard and cut his way through the Ganksters’ closest heroes, a pair of identical NecroKnights and a Lava Mage. He dodged the Lava Mage’s blasts of Brimstone, destroying the last of her failing red Health bar with a rapid series of squalembrottocuts.

The NecroKnights tried to attack from either side as the mage fell, but Roark knocked aside the faster hero’s broadsword and plunged his rapier into the man’s eye. His Health bar flashed the critical warning, then emptied, and he dropped dead on the spot.

The second NecroKnight bellowed as he swung a heavy overhand arc with his broadsword. Roark easily sidestepped the unstoppable blow, then sliced the knight to ribbons with a spinning off hand combo before the man could recover. The NecroKngiht was dead before he knew it.

Golden light flared from Roark’s skin, and an ascending chime rang through the Burial Chamber. His filigreed Health and Magicka vials refilled themselves, and a rush of warmth and energy flowed into his limbs, washing away the fatigue and wounds from the battle.

[LEVEL UP!]

Roark grinned as he dismissed the glowing golden text.

He had reached Level 70.